


I knew I should have just stayed home

by Captain_Paperswan



Category: The Outsiders - All Media Types
Genre: Belting, Discipline, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Recreational Drug Use, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:21:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26828785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Paperswan/pseuds/Captain_Paperswan
Summary: Curly talks Ponyboy into helping him sell weed, which results in both of them having to face Tim Shepard's wrath.
Comments: 18
Kudos: 54





	1. Chapter 1

On the walk to the designated meeting place, Ponyboy could already feel regret heavy in his chest. But it was too late to back down.

It was Curly’s fault, his charming puppy-dog smile had lowered Ponyboy’s defenses and made him forget that the wily boy was still a Shepard. And only a Shepard would talk a brand-new friend into selling weed. But nonetheless, Ponyboy had made a promise to Curly, and consequences be damned, he could never go back on a promise.  So, there he was, sneaking out of his window and trudging through the windy night to find the older boy. 

The wind was not friendly, so Ponyboy had to pull up his jacket to cover his neck. He was starting to regret not fixing his light ginger hair beforehand, as the wind tousled it about and gave him an even worse bedhead. Not that Curly ever even bothered taming his wild hair, but Ponyboy still wanted to impress the other kid. The streetlamps illuminated the path Ponyboy needed to take, he’d never been in this part of town before; the part of town where the stores were long since abandoned and the concrete was stained with suspicious blotches of rusty red. Ponyboy half expected to see a cartoonish skull somewhere, or maybe some bones in an intricate pattern. This place looked like the setting of a campy horror movie. Darry had warned him to stay far away from this part of town, and now Ponyboy was starting to understand why.

“Curly?” Ponyboy called into the shadows of a dank, musty alleyway. He felt like a little kid, arms wrapped tightly around his thin body as a chill ran up his spine. 

He didn’t want to take another step into the alleyway, his feet felt glued to the ground as  adrenaline made his heart pound. Every little sound hammered in Ponyboy’s ears, and his eyes darted around for any signs of movement. He felt himself wishing he’d just stayed home where it was safe because now he felt like he was being cornered by something he could not see or hear. 

A hand closed over Pony’s shoulder, making him jump so hard that the other person retreated. 

“Jesus, Pony,  it's just me!” Curly’s voice snapped, and Ponyboy whipped around to see the older greaser standing there with his hands in the air as if he had a gun to him. 

Ponyboy took a step back, grinning nervously. “Ah sorry, I’m just  kinda tired s’all.” he said.

Curly jammed his hands into the pockets of his jacket, streetlights shining off the worn black leather. “Whatever,” he replied dismissively, then pulled out a bag from his pocket. “If those bourgy bastards don’t show soon we can just smoke all this shit ourselves,” he said with a little smirk.

Ponyboy winced. He knew if that were the case then Darry would smell it on his hair and clothes, there would be absolutely no way he’d get home without being caught. Ponyboy cringed at the memory of Darry dealing with Sodapop when he came home stoned, he could hear the sounds of the severe whipping from his room and didn’t stop crying until he was cuddling with his sore brother on the couch.

“My brother might just have to kill me if I came home stoned,” Ponyboy admitted. Ever since finding out that Tim still spanked Curly, he was far less worried about talking about how Darry dealt with him.

“Then don’t come home,” Curly said with a shrug. “Just stay out, sneak back in while he’s at work, shower, then he’ll be none the wiser,” he spoke as if he had this down to a science, which made Ponyboy a bit  jealous .

“It's not really that simple. I got all the older boys to worry about too.” Ponyboy rubbed his arm  self-consciously .

Curly scoffed. “You let those guys tan you?”

“I don’t let them!” Ponyboy snapped. “They’re stronger than me, and if I fight too much then Darry will give it to me worse or I’ll have somebody else holding me down-” He shuddered at the memory of when he tried to fight Sodapop on a whupping after he’d taken a walk alone without telling anybody; Sodapop was having none of this and just called Steve over, who pinned him while he finished wailing on his ass. 

Curly kicked at the ground a little, “Man if any of my guys tried that they’d get their throats ripped out.” he said, and Ponyboy believed it. Curly’s teeth were sharp as all hell and he’d most  definitely used them in a fight.

The boy's conversation was interrupted by the screeching of tires and slamming of a car door. Ponyboy glared a little bit instinctually at the sight of the mustang, and his glare deepened at the two boys who sauntered out. Just from the grooming and the way they moved, Ponyboy recognized Bob and Randy. They rarely left each other's side.

Curly held the bag a little tighter, walking towards them with one hand on the blade in his pocket just in case. Ponyboy kept his distance, but mirrored Curly, wishing he’d had a blade on him. 

Bob fished around in his pocket, then handed Curly a wad of cash. “I got it, now hand over the shit before I call the cops on you.”

Curly snarled, taking the money and slamming the bag into his hand. “Already in your possession, sweetheart,” he said with a scathing smirk, showing off his sharp teeth just to  unnerve the two boys a bit more. 

Ponyboy stood stiffly, his every muscle pulled tautly. He wanted them to leave already so he could go home and forget about this whole night. Bob had been the one to shove his head into a fountain while Randy beat the life out of Johnny. He was sure they would have both died if Darry hadn’t come charging in with the rest of the boys. The fight that night in the park had been brutal, and Pony could still remember the bloodstained fountain and how the cops had been called in the morning. It was a  miracle nobody was killed. 

Bob should be in jail, was all Pony could think. The boy had nearly murdered him, yet he walked free. And when Pony caught Bob’s eye, the look in those unfeeling beige orbs told him that he’d do it again.

Finally, the two started back to their mustang, then drove off with a screech. And Pony could honestly swear that he saw how much Bob wanted to kill him. He wanted to tell Curly this, but he didn’t want to be laughed at.

Curly clapped Pony hard on the back. “Hey bud, you look like you’re  gonna pass out.” He said, counting the cash. “Let's divvy this shit up, kay,” he said, but then Pony saw somebody grab him by the back of the neck.

Pony felt the same iron grip on his shirt, and he could feel sharp nails digging into his bare skin. In his ear, he heard Tim Shepard’s raspy voice growl. “What the fuck are you two doing here?”


	2. Tim and Curly

A few moments ago, Tim Shepard had honestly thought that his kid brother was going to be slaughtered. He’d heard from one of the older guys that Curly had snuck out and had spent a good hour looking for him, but he certainly didn’t expect the little knucklehead to have dragged the youngest Curtis along. He had his hand on his knife, ready to spring out and run to the two boy’s aid if the socs pulled anything, but to his relief, they simply took the contraband and left, which left Tim to have to sort those two out.

Flicking his knife closed and stuffing it away, Tim prowled over to the two silently, grabbing each by the collars of their jackets. “What the fuck are you two doing here?” He snarled, his voice low and dangerous.

Curly immediately yelped, then tried to wrestle free once he recognized the voice, but Tim was able to keep him restrained with one hand. 

“Worry about yourself!” Curly yelled, tried to writhe away, Tim thought it was amusing how the Curtis boy just went as limp and pliant as a  scruffed puppy when he was grabbed, not making any attempt to escape as opposed to Tim’s idiot little brother.

Tim let go of Ponyboy and smacked Curly hard on the ass, then grabbed him by the upper arm with his free hand to make sure he wouldn’t escape. He kept a close eye on Ponyboy, who was hugging himself nervously, eyes huge. 

“Get in my car. Both of you,” he said coldly, dragging a struggling, cussing Curly and making sure Ponyboy was following. 

He opened the back door and tossed Curly in, Curly tried to make a grab for the door handle but Tim slammed it before he could get the chance. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Fuck you, Tim, I was trying to help us!” Curly hissed, and Tim rolled his eyes, walking around to open the door for Ponyboy, who nervously slid inside, hunched over and keeping to himself. 

“You  ain’t helping us none by getting jailed, now quiet back there before I give you something to yell about,” he said, turning the car on and pulling out so fast both boys in the back seat were jostled in place.

Tim was gripping the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white as he tried to focus on the road. He was so angry, he thought he’d gotten it through Curly’s head that you couldn’t just go doing shit like this. But apparently not. Apparently, he hadn’t been whipping him hard enough, because the little shit had gone and dragged the youngest boy of their only allies along too. If Darry found out about this it could very well end their already strained relationship, which could be disastrous if the  Brumlys kept picking fights and attacking their most helpless members.

While he was driving, Curly had finally stopped cursing, so Tim took a deep breath to calm himself before he spoke.

“Ponyboy you have two options here. One is that I take you home to Darry and tell him all about what happened and the other is that I take you back to my place and whip you myself, and this whole situation stays between us.” Tim said, he would accept any answer the kid gave, but he secretly hoped that he could keep this situation on the down-low so that the alliance was not ruined. 

Ponyboy  buried his face into his arms at that, taking deep breaths. “Can’t you just let me go? Nobody has to know a-and I won’t do it again.” His voice was pitiful and pleading, something Tim had never heard in any of his boys. It had him a little perplexed. 

“No can do,” Tim said, clearing his throat. “If I just let you go, you’ll think it fit to go fucking around like that again.” he was leveling his voice when he spoke to Ponyboy, not wanting to deal with the kid bursting into tears before he’d even made his choice.

Pony whimpered but didn’t protest anymore. After a moment’s silence, he spoke up. “C-Can you... you know-” the younger boy didn’t even want to say the word.

“Can I  _ what _ , Ponyboy Curtis.” Tim needed to be sure he knew what he meant.

“Can you punish me?” 

Curly actually scoffed before Tim could even respond, and Tim shot him a warning look through the mirror. 

“Alright. Just know that this was your decision and I’m not going to tolerate you backing out of it. The way I deal with my older boys  ain’t like Darry at all, but for younger kids like you its similar.” Tim informed Ponyboy, wondering how much misinformation the kid has been fed about his gang. If Tim felt like his older boys would let him, he’d find it way easier to just take Darry’s approach, but no, their pride was far too strong for that and Tim had to deal with a black eye every time he went to discipline somebody. But the younger kids were different, they were smaller and could be held down, and often were more willing to let go of their pride and sob into Tim’s shoulder once it was all over- Tim always figured those ones would end up with better lives then his other men.

Ponyboy gave a jerky nod. “Yessir.” he breathed.

Tim kept talking, wanting the kid to know exactly what he was in for. “Once we get back to my place, I’m going to take you and Curly into my bedroom.” he raised a hand to silence Curly when he started opening his mouth to protest. “I’ll have Curly go first so you can see how it goes, then I’m going to bend you over the bed and whip you hard with my belt. Do you understand?”

Ponyboy audibly gulped, his eyes going wide. “I-I understand. But why a belt? Couldn't... Couldn’t you use something else?” he pleaded.

Tim shook his head as he pulled into the driveway. “No. This is severe and you need severe punishment.” He stopped the car and pulled the keys out, stepping out the get the boys. Before Curly could even make a  move, Tim had a grip on his collar. 

Ponyboy got out on his own, he looked paler and his eyes were huge. “I’ve never been whipped before,” he admitted softly as if that would get him any sympathy. Well, he was sort of right, but Tim wouldn’t show it.

“There's a first time for everything,” Tim replied, placing his free hand on Ponyboy’s shoulder, half restraint half consoling. “Now c'mon, let's get this done.” 

Curly had stopped struggling and just followed as Tim walked into the house and to their shared room. It wasn’t as messy as it would have been if Tim hadn’t threatened Curly into cleaning up his side. 

Tim locked the door and released his grip on the two. “Now, Ponyboy you can sit on the bed and watch. Curly, you already know what to do.” Ponyboy obeyed, but Curly seemed to be having a harder time with it.

Curly was clearly upset, but the initial rage had worn off. “Tim you don’t understand, you don’t understand at all!” He grumbled.

Tim rolled his eyes. He could put up with his brother’s melodrama so long as he wasn’t trying to get away or fight him. “And what don’t I understand?”

“I did this for us! I wasn’t  gonna pocket the money for myself!” He pulled out his share of the cash from his pocket, shoving it towards Tim. “Here!”

Tim sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You could have gotten a job you know. I appreciate the thought but the way you decided to go about it was ridiculous.”

Curly shook his head, wiry black curls bouncing. “No, I couldn’t have. Nobody on earth would take me. I wanted to help  you; this was the only way I knew how.” Curly broke, and Tim was shocked to see some moister behind his eyes.

“Curly...” Was all Tim could say. He hadn’t expected this at all. They fought all the time, and Tim had just accepted that Curly really might hate him. He reached out to smooth down his brother’s wild hair. “Curly you could have just come to me. You could have just asked what you could do.”

The younger boy didn’t seem to want to speak, he just clenched his fists at his sides and let his brother soothe him while tears started to prick his brown eyes. 

Tim took a deep breath, they hadn’t truly had a moment like this in years, and he felt bad he had to spoil it by punishing the two kids. “Curly you know I have to punish you for this,” he said, softening his voice.

Curly for once just nodded. “F-Fine!” he  hissed, voice wet and upset. 

“Alright, get ready,” Tim replied, unbuckling his belt and doubling it over.

Ponyboy was curled up in a ball at the top of the bed, watching this scene unfold through his hands. He looked terrified.

Tim considered his options for a bit, then made a choice. “Ponyboy, why don’t you go outside and sit on the couch for this.” He said. “I’ll call you when it's your turn.” He figured that right now they were both feeling extra vulnerable, and dealing with them separately would allow Tim to intercept easily if either of the boys started panicking. Tim remembered clearly a time when one of his youngest boys had a panic attack while being held down for a whipping; he hadn’t recognized it at first and just kept lashing, but when it was over and the kid just kept sobbing and pleading with  him, he knew he’d majorly fucked up- it took about an hour to get him to calm down. Tim was careful to pay extra close attention to avoid that happening ever again.

Ponyboy gave a little nod, then stood up. Tim unlocked the door for him. “Get some water if you need it, kid, just don’t try anything smart.  Ya, dig?” Ponyboy just nodded again.

Tim locked the door behind Pony and turned back to Curly, who was taking off his jacket and shoes. Curly moved to bend over the bed, but Tim grabbed his shoulder. 

“You’re going over my knee.” He said calmly, and Curly blanched.

“I’m not a little kid!” He said, though his slightly red eyes said otherwise. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Tim replied. “It’ll be easier for me to hold you like that.” in reality, it was because he wanted to have as much contact with his brother as possible to make sure that he was alright. He was never going to make the same mistake twice, and if it meant forcing his boys to sacrifice some pride then so be it.

Tim sat down on the edge of the bed, patting his leg expectantly. “Pull your pants down and come here.” 

Curly gave a little hiss of frustration, he never went without attitude but obeyed  regardless . He nervously walked over to Tim, clearly not knowing what to do exactly. Tim could see this and grabbed his hips, pulling him to stand at his left side, then started to pull him over his lap. Curly got the message and climbed over, Tim had spread his legs to give Curly a good platform to lay on, the younger boy folded his arms over Tim’s right thigh and rested his head down.

Tim snagged two fingers into Curly’s dark briefs then quickly pulled them down before the boy could try and stop him. Curly clearly didn’t like that as he quickly cursed into his arms, but other  than that didn’t fight too much.

Tim held the doubled belt in one hand, practicing cracking it a few times to get the feel for how he would swing in this position, then decided it was time to start. He rested his hand on Curly’s back, pressing down a bit and rubbing softly to give him a sense of security. And then he swung the belt back and brought it down hard.

Curly shouted loudly at that, bucking up in place, but Tim just pushed him back down. A rosy color blushed onto the spot where he’d been struck. 

Tim continued his self-imposed job. The licks weren’t in any pattern or order, they just struck wherever color was needed. Curly was taking it better than before; he wasn’t fighting or swearing he’d kill Tim in his sleep this time around. But it was clear that the boy was in pain, he squirmed and whined, kicking his feet against the ground as if holding still for even a second would kill him. 

Tim kept going, turning the pink splotches to a redder shade with the cruel leather, he’d lost count of how many he’d given Curly but they weren’t done by a long shot.

“Are you going to sell drugs again?” Tim asked, giving Curly a little break.

Curly gasped, and from the sound of his voice, he was close to tears. “I didn’t know what else to do!” he complained.

Tim lashed him again, earning a yelp in response. 

“If you want to help me then ask instead of just acting on impulse. Where the hell did you even get that weed?” Tim took a moment to rub his brother’s back to coax an answer from him.

Curly groaned and buried his face further into his arms. “I promised I wouldn’t tell.”

Tim patted Curly lightly. “I won’t let  em hurt you none.”

Curly gave a shaky sigh, he was obviously on the brink of tears. “G... Grinning Ed,” he muttered.

Tim couldn’t say he was surprised, but he was still pissed. “I’ll have a ‘talk’ with him  tomorrow ,” he said, knowing he was going to have to check the supplies for bandages and gauze once they were done pounding on  each other .

Curly gave a little nod, squeezing Tim’s jeans tight as he braced himself for it to continue.

Tim swung the belt back and started whipping his brother again, hard, loud cracks that rang throughout the small room. Curly started yelping, squirming hard to get away but Tim just pressed down hard on his back and kept turning his ass red.

Curly was openly sobbing now, his shoulders shaking and tears splashing onto Tim’s leg. But he forced himself to continue. 

“Stop it! Stop!” Curly shrieked at a strike his  sit spots , he bucked up and threw an arm back to cover himself.

Tim sighed and started to strike lower on his legs, making Curly howl. “Move your hand.”

Curly shook his head, torn between letting Tim keep hitting his legs or giving him  access to his sore bottom again.

“I’ll make this easier for you. You can either move your hand or I’m going to give you the rest on your legs.” Tim said, and Curly obeyed with a mix between a sob and a growl.

“Good kid,” Tim praised, grabbing Curly’s wrist and pinning it to his back as he kept striking, turning the skin a bright shade of red. Curly finally stopped shouting and just went limp, his body lying helplessly across his big brother’s legs while he sobbed out his misery.

“I-I’m sorry.” Curly whined into Tim’s leg, his voice barely  comprehensible through his gasping sobs.

Tim decided this was as sorry as the boy would ever be, so he let the belt fall from his hand, landing on the carpet with a thump. Tim took a deep breath; his arm was going to be sore once he was done with Ponyboy. He started to pet his crying brother’s hair. “I forgive you,” he said softly.

Curly whimpered and reached back to pull his shorts back up, then slid off Tim’s lap. He knelt on the ground, hiding his tear-stained face by pushing his shaggy bangs down. Tim sighed and rubbed his back softly. Curly leaned  forward and rested his head in Tim’s lap, taking deep breaths while his older brother smoothed his hair down. 

This was the most comfort Curly would ever let Tim give him. No matter how harsh the beating he somehow never let go of his pride enough to be held. But Tim would take what he could get, so he gently soothed his brother, who was already starting to calm down. 

“Now you won’t ever do that again, promise?” Tim asked, and Curly shook his head.

“No, I won’t have any skin left if I do.” Curly replied, looking up at Tim. His face was a mess but he wasn’t actively crying anymore so Tim cupped his brother’s face gently and kissing him on the forehead. 

Curly leaped up at that, “Don’t get all mushy on me!” He hissed, jerking his pants back into place, and  aggressively buttoning them. 

Tim just laughed, crossing one leg over the other. “Need me to wash your face off, baby?” he asked. 

Curly rolled his eyes, “Fuck off, I’ll be fine.” he said, opening the door. Tim sighed as he picked the belt back up and set it on the bed. He wasn’t ready to deal with the much more sensitive Ponyboy but they did have a deal after all.

Tim walked outside to see Curly resting on his hip on the couch, one arm wrapped around Pony’s shoulders.

Tim figured that Curly was just complaining to him, but then he realized that the youngest Curtis was already crying.


	3. Pony and Tim

The sound of the belt was nothing short of terrifying.  
Loud cracks followed by pained cries was all Ponyboy could hear in the empty house. He was too scared to turn the TV on to drown the noise out, so all he did was curl up on the couch like a deer in the headlights and tremble into the sound stopped.   
Ponyboy couldn’t believe he’d gotten himself into this mess. Well, he could actually, as Darry said, he never used his head. He wanted to avoid the temporary stress of Darry’s anger by tangling himself up in something so much worse. As he’d told Tim, he’d never been whipped before and had hoped he would never have to be. He’d seen his older, far tougher brothers reduced to tears. He’d even seen Dally whimpering into Darry’s shoulder when he eavesdropped on them this one time. But Pony wasn’t even going to get it from the brother he trusted, he was getting it from the infamous leader of a gang that on some occasions could be considered their rival. And Ponyboy knew that Tim’s ire was a deadly poison. He was going to get the worst, most painful punishment of his life, and now he wasn’t even going to feel his brother’s arms around his body, holding him warm while whispering gentle words of affirmation.  
Tim had warned him that once he made his choice there would be no backing down, and he’d been taught to honor his word, so as much as Ponyboy wanted to bolt out the door, he stayed put.  
A few moments after the sound stopped, Curly came limping out the door of the dark room, his usual saunter was even worse as he staggered to sit on the couch. With no warning, Curly threw both his bony arms around Ponyboy, pulling him to lean against him. Ponyboy’s muscles were pulled taut in surprise, but he soon relaxed into the gesture, burying his face in Curly’s dark shirt.   
It was embarrassing, and Ponyboy just wished he could man up and face his punishment like Sodapop or Steve or Tw- well not Two-bit, but you should understand his dilemma. Hot tears stung his eyes and began to slide down his red cheeks, dripping onto the cotton of Curly’s shirt. To Pony’s dismay, Curly pulled back, but he did wrap on arm around Pony’s shoulders and kept him close.  
Ponyboy looked up from where he was clinging to his friend to see Tim standing in the shadows by his bedroom door, leaning with one foot propped up on the wall, watching though his intense amber eyes. Ponyboy felt a shiver run down his spine and he ducked down, nervously trying to hide his tears.  
“Curtis, c’mere.” Rumbled Tim’s voice, he sounded like a panther when he spoke, dangerous yet calm. Ponyboy’s muscles felt like strings pulled too tight, his heart beat pounding like a cornered rabbit.   
“Now, boy. You do not want me to come and get you.” Tim rasped when Ponyboy did not move except to shiver and keen against Curly.   
The youngest Shepard took a deep breath and patted Ponyboy on the shoulder firmly, “You should go,” he whispered. “Timmy doesn’t look happy.”  
‘No shit, bud.’ Ponyboy thought, but he knew it would not bode well for him to say this out loud. Instead, with a pit in his stomach and a lump in his throat, Ponyboy stood up. His legs were twigs beneath his body, and his head hung low as he shuffled over to Tim.  
Ponyboy flinched hard when Tim rested a skeletal hand on his shoulder, he sunk his blunt teeth into his bottom lip out of habit. Tim led him into the darkness of the bedroom, and shut the door with a loud creak and a click of the lock.   
Ponyboy’s heart was racing when Tim sat down on the bed, gazing at the youngest Curtis as if he were trying to read his mind. Ponyboy’s back was pressed flat against the wall as if it would save him, his arms wrapped tight around himself.  
“Come closer.” Came the dreaded order, and Ponyboy forced his body to obey, walking stiffly to stand in front of the Shepard.  
“I want you to explain to me exactly what happened.” Tim said, his voice colder than a mid-winter storm.  
Ponyboy took a deep breath. “Well, yesterday at school Curly told me you were short on money... And that he had a plan to help, b-but he needed my help. I really didn’t think it would be that bad- I just wanted to help him, I...” Ponyboy stopped talking when Tim raised a hand to silence him.  
“So, you assisted Curly in selling drugs to your enemies, knowing it could get you jailed or killed.” Tim raised an eyebrow and Ponyboy gulped.  
Figuring it best not to try and defend himself any further, he just nodded. “Yessir.”   
Tim narrowed his eyes almost curiously at Ponyboy, then to his horror bent down and picked the belt up off the ground. That strap was huge and made of worn, dark leather. Ponyboy’s stomach churned as if he had swallowed a bunch of worms.  
“I want you to pull your jeans down then bend over my lap.” Tim said calmly, doubling the belt in his hand and cracking it so loud that Ponyboy jumped.  
With fumbling hands, Ponyboy rushed to obey the order. His hands started to feel clammy as he stumbled over the button, he vaguely heard Tim say something, but was too panicked to hear it.  
When Ponyboy felt Tim’s hands on his hips he jumped, eyes huge.   
“Calm down,” Tim said coolly, moving Ponyboy’s hands away and unbuttoning his jeans himself, pulling the denim down to his knees then guiding the boy to lie across his knee.  
Ponyboy’s upper half was resting on the bed, his hips over Tim’s thigh and legs trapped between Tim’s. He felt three feet tall and utterly helpless, as if Tim had a gun to his head or something, but no, the man was just going to tan his ass. Ponyboy found it odd that Tim wouldn’t just take him out behind his garage and beat him like he did to Dally, but maybe he didn’t want Darry after him for it. Funny, maybe Dally was lying about their scuffles and this was how Tim just handled his problems. The thought of Tim holding Dally over his knee and belting him was equal parts funny and strange to Ponyboy.  
Ponyboy was pulled from his thoughts at the feeling of cool air hitting his now bare bottom when Tim pulled his shorts down. Ponyboy’s heart lurched and his cheeks glowed red. He squirmed around before the first hit had even landed.  
The first strike drove the breath from Ponyboy’s lungs, leaving him gasping. It stung, it stung horribly. The burn sunk in deep and he was sure it had left an awful mark. Before he could collect himself, the belt smacked across the other side of his ass.  
“Ow!” Ponyboy shouted, grabbing the blanket in front of him and burying his face deep into the soft fabric. Only two strikes and he was stinging so badly. This was going to feel like hell, wasn’t it?   
Tim did not hit him again immediately, no, he waited in silence, leaving Ponyboy to shiver and whimper in the dark of the room. He squeezed the blanket for comfort, he liked it better when Darry smacked him fast and hard all while lecturing, this just terrified him. His bottom was starting to cool off, the hot sting fading a bit. That’s when Tim struck again.  
This time it was twice in a row again, the strap lashing down with a harsh crack, leaving a burning pain in its wake. Ponyboy wailed, knuckles going white as he gripped his comfort item.  
“What are you thinking about?” Tim asked, his rumbly deep voice was nothing like it was before. While it was still stern, it carried an undertone of patience to it. Tim waited for Ponyboy while he gathered himself together.  
“I-I’m scared... And I-” Ponyboy whimpered, he didn’t want Tim to continue. “I just want this to be over.”  
Tim rubbed his back on the spot his shirt had ridden up. The man’s hand was big and calloused but not thick like Darry’s. It was thin and bony. Ponyboy gave a heavy shudder.  
“Would you like me to take it slow, or hit faster and harder to get this done?” Tim asked softly, and Ponyboy groaned. Why was Tim making him choose? Darry always made the choice for Ponyboy unless he was making him choose between a grounding and a spanking. He wondered if Tim made all his boys choose between two terrible options.  
“I don’t know!” Ponyboy cried, he sounded pathetic which just embarrassed him even more.  
“Alright, I’ll make it easier for you,” said Tim. And then he started again.  
Ponyboy heard the crack before he felt the pain. And when it registered, he immediately started crying in full, tears rolling down his face. Tim was not giving him any breaks, cracking that thick strap all over Ponyboy’s bottom, turning it a hue of bright red. Ponyboy yelled and cried, kicking hard as if holding still would kill him. It hurt so much worse than he could have imagined, if this was how his brothers felt when they were whipped then they had to be crazy for repeating the same offense. He was desperate to get away, but Tim’s hand on his back was somehow enough to hold him to the bed.   
Ponyboy couldn’t take it anymore, he was sure. He threw an arm back to cover his stinging backside, a pleading sob rising in his throat. “Please!- I’m sorry!”  
Tim grabbed a hold of his arm, squeezing it tight and pinning it to the small of his back effortlessly. “Settle down.” He said, laying down two more burning lashes to Ponyboy’s sit spots.  
Ponyboy let out a sob. He should have just gone home and let Darry deal with him. Not this crazy hood.  
“You know, I’m not hitting you any harder than Darry would,” Tim said, as if he’d read his mind.   
Ponyboy groaned and Tim moved his hand to hold Ponyboy’s wrist, rubbing soft circles on the back of the boy’s hand with his thumb. “You’re hurting, but you’re not in any danger here.” Tim reminded. “You’re just scared, that’s makin’ it seem worse than it actually is.”  
Ponyboy digested this, and figured it was true. He’d spent the past hour hyping himself up for the sting of the lash and now that he was getting it he was so tense it felt like hell. It was still incredibly painful, but Tim wasn’t actually hurting him.  
“I just- I just wanna go home!” Ponyboy wailed, his voice must be incomprehensible at this point.  
Tim sighed and kept soothing him. “Soon, we’re almost done here. Lets continue.”  
“Continue?!” Ponyboy shrieked, burying himself into the bed as Tim gave him the next hits fast and hard.  
One landed low on his thighs, another right on the top of his ass. It felt almost like Tim was trying to get an even color.   
And then it stopped, the belt clinking as it fell down to the floor.  
Ponyboy lay gasping and sobbing brokenly, Tim rubbing his back calmly.  
Ponyboy was too worn out to even feel humiliated as Tim pulled up his briefs. He just laid there and cried himself out. He wanted Darry.  
Tim gripped Ponyboy by the shoulders and pulled him to sit up. Ponyboy was too tired to protest, he leaned into Tim’s shoulder when he was sat on the bed. The older hood wrapped an arm around Ponyboy’s shaking form and held him gently. “You’re okay, we’ll get you home in a moment.”  
Ponyboy gave a jerky nod in response, melting into the half-hug Tim was giving him. Funny, he’d never thought that the terrifying older man could act so much like Darry.  
It took him a moment to get his bearings, but once he’d stopped sobbing Tim pulled him up softly, letting Ponyboy lean on his shoulder.  
“Gotta show Curly you’re still alive.” Tim said, opening the door to see Curly pacing around the living room with the TV on full blast. He looked up and breathed a sigh of relief.  
“Y’all can sit and calm down a while, the. I’ve decided I’m driving you home.” Tim said and Ponyboy felt relieved and scared at the same time. Darry would be pissed, but he didn’t want to have to sneak back in. God the news of this would be everywhere in a few days- just like when Dally would get beaten up by Tim, only this time way more embarrassing.  
…  
Tim couldn’t get Curly to shut up when he loaded him and Ponyboy into his busted up car. Curly had insisted on coming when they dropped Ponyboy off at home, ‘Just in case Darry snaps and tries to beat your ass.’   
That wouldn’t happen, Tim reckoned. Darry had smacked Curly good and hard before, and while Curly had been upset, Tim figured it served him right. And Ponyboy had calmed down now, he was still misty eyed and leaning against Curly, but he was smiling occasionally and giggling at the older boy’s shitty jokes. Yeah, he was going to be alright.  
As they drove, Tim thought about how Ponyboy melted into him for comfort unprompted. Any of his other boys would have to be wrestled down to accept any sort of kindness after a punishment. Even Curly had surprised him today.  
Maybe it was just how the Curtis outfit was. Tim hung around Dally quite a bit and while that boy was hard as nails, he could see he had a more sensitive side come out whenever he brought Johnny along with him. Sodapop was all cuddly and Darry loved his boys like a father loves his sons. It wasn’t like anything Tim had ever seen before, and in a way he was envious. He was drawn to them like honey draws flies, and was glad to have Darry as an ally.   
When they pulled into Darry’s driveway, the grizzly bear was already pacing around his living room, on the phone with somebody. When Tim knocked on the door, Darry threw down the phone and threw it open.  
“What in the hell happened?!” He demanded, glaring, though his eyes flashed with something else entirely.  
Tim put a hand on the back of Ponyboy’s neck, who was looking sheepish.   
“Caught these two in the streets, must’ve snuck out. Gave Baby Curtis here the choice between being brought straight home and taking a punishment from me. He didn’t want to bother you apparently so I whipped him good.”   
Ponyboy blushed, he must have noticed how Tim left out the part where they sold weed.  
Darry’s eyes went wide, but he kept a level expression. “And Ponyboy asked you to?” The man tried to look his little brother in the face, but Ponyboy, red with shame, kept trying to look away.  
“He must not have been thinking straight.” Tim said, wanting to spare Darry’s feelings. They may have their differences but they still shared the burden of caring for kids that nobody else would bother with.   
Darry looked up at Tim with a hard gaze. “You could have just brought him straight home.”  
Tim shrugged. “Had it been anyone else I would have whupped them on the spot. But Ponyboy is a kid and deserves to choose who’s medicine he wants to take.”   
It was true. Dally or Two-bit or anyone else in Darry’s gang screwing with Tim Shepard always resulted in a beatdown unless they were fast enough to get to Darry- and when that happened Tim would call the older man and let him know, so no matter what they’d be punished. But Ponyboy was both far too little to escape Tim if he’d chosen to deal with him the classic way and also too young in Tim’s eyes to take a beating like that. He would never use fists against somebody more than two years his junior. It just wasn’t right.   
Darry couldn’t argue with that, so he just nodded and extended his hand. Tim shook it firmly and started to leave. Behind him out of the corner of his eye he saw Ponyboy leap into Darry’s arms and bury himself into the older man’s chest. Yeah, he was going to be just fine. 


End file.
